


Off Jumps Jack

by Dhae



Category: NCIS
Genre: Knitting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 16:05:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3387911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhae/pseuds/Dhae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warning: Unsavoury uses for knitting needles and yarn - and the act of knitting - ahead. Nakedness will occur. I'm really really sorry about this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off Jumps Jack

The knock at the door made Tony jump. Literally. He felt his ass leave the couch, and his heart started pounding.  
  
The knock came again, serious and heavy this time, telling him that whoever was outside meant business and wasn't going away without being recognized. Tony took a deep breath, put his work on the coffee-table and put on his robe before going to open the door.  
  
A third knock sounded just before he got it. This one not so much like a knock, more like a pounding. It gave him enough of a clue that he wasn't even surprised when he opened the door and found Gibbs outside. Although what the hell his boss was doing at his apartment on a Friday night... well, that was anybodies guess.  
  
"Gibbs?"   
  
"You gonna let me in, DiNozzo?"  
  
A second glance revealed that Gibbs was soaking wet. Tony figured the dripping newspaper in his hand was probably the reason his hair was only moderately damp.   
  
"Uh..." Tony cast an eye over his apartment. It wasn't exactly spic _or_ span, but... well, it'd have to do. "Okay."  
  
Gibbs wandered in as if _he_ was the one paying the rent. Which, Tony admitted to himself, he might as well be, for all the defences Tony had against him. He toed off his shoes, and shed his coat, then stood there, holding the soaked wool.  
  
"Oh, uh... let me put that one in the bathroom for you, Boss," Tony offered. He didn't want the entirety of his closet smelling of wet wool - not to mention the damage the water might do to some of his own jackets.  
  
When he came back, it was to the all-too-alluring sight of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, dressed in an old pair of jeans, dark from moisture on the bottom, an old sweatshirt which Tony guessed would be washed as soft as silk, and socks. Red socks, to be exact. Luckily, Gibbs was bent over something on the coffee-table, and frankly his backside was a hell of a lot more alluring than his socks.   
  
Oh. Wait. Coffee-table. Tony closed his eyes and groaned soundlessly. Damn, damn, _damn!_   
  
With the air of a french aristocrat going to the guillotine, he headed over to Gibbs. Might as well face his imminent destruction.  
  
"Knitting, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked curiously, when he sensed Tony arriving beside him.   
  
"Yeah," he said and reached for the multi-coloured wool that would eventually become a new pair of socks, if he lasted that long. "An ex-girlfriend taught me."  
  
"I didn't take you for the craftsy type." Gibbs observed, and Tony felt himself blushing. Damn it - he didn't blush!  
  
"Yeah, I found it had certain... advantages," he confessed.   
  
Gibbs looked him up and down, then, in a practised move Tony should _really_ have been able to see through, he feinted with his left hand, attracting Tony's attention with that one, while his right hand struck with the speed and accuracy of a cobra. It was the draft that alerted Tony to the fact that his robe was no longer closed.  
  
Gibbs' eyebrow rose. "Knitting naked," he said, his tone too dry to make it into a question.  
  
Tony felt a powerful urge to liquefy enough that he could just slip through the floor-boards to the apartment below. But, as is usually the case, mortifying embarrassment is not fatal. He drew the robe around him and folded his arms across his chest to keep it that way.  
  
"That was how she knitted," he defended himself weakly.   
  
Gibbs' eyes were glowing with interest, and his mouth was slanted in a half-smile. "And there's no other reason you're keeping up the tradition?"  
  
Tony turned away, trying to keep utter humiliation at bay. He knew it was futile, of course.  
  
"It feels good," he mumbled, and was - as expected - called upon to repeat it. He spun around, suddenly furious.  
  
"It feels _good_ , okay?" he shouted. "Now is there anything else you wanted, _boss_ , because otherwise you can just get out _right_ now."  
  
Gibbs actually took a step back, but then he held his ground. "You could... show me, Tony," he said quietly, which made Tony scramble to go from righteous anger to... was that a come-on?  
  
Tony closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to shake loose that obviously faulty idea that Gibbs had just come on to him.   
  
"You want _me_ to show _you_ how to knit naked?" He knew his voice was incredulous - but hell, who could blame him?  
  
"Yeah," Gibbs said, chin up, apparently undaunted by the prospect that if Tony _did_ do it (of course he would, who was he trying to kid), then he'd pretty soon be naked. Naked. With Tony.  Whoo boy!  
  
"You _know_ this is the way cheesy  pornos start, don't you, Gibbs?"  
  
"Do you have an objection to cheesy pornos, DiNozzo?"  
  
And there, right there, Tony had to stop and laugh. "Uh... no. No objection."  
  
"Then _show_ me, Tony."   
  
Ah, hell. Denying Gibbs had been beyond Tony's abilities from about five seconds after they met.   
  
"Okay. First of all, you need to strip."  
  
"Okay," Gibbs said easily, and started undressing with an efficiency and unselfconsciousness that would've been fostered in barracks and communal showers. Tony knew about that. His own version of it had grown out of fraternities and locker-rooms.   
  
"You know this is all a dream, don't you," Tony commented idly, wondering how the hell he'd missed the waist-coated rabbit.   
  
Gibbs chuckled. "Whatever helps you sleep, DiNozzo."  
  
Finally undressed, Gibbs turned to face him, spreading his hands slightly to the side, as if presenting for approval. Tony approved. Oh, did he _ever!_   
  
"Uhm... okay. So... my girlfriend used to do this Indian style, but I think you can do it pretty much however. You could try... just... sit down." He didn't manhandle Gibbs into one of his comfy chairs, but it was a damn close thing. It didn't help that Gibbs was doing his alpha male 'I move because I _want_ to move' thing, which was just hotter than it ought to be, if Tony was being honest with himself.   
  
"Okay. Now... spread your legs a little, yeah, that's it. Now scoot forwards, just a little, just... yeah. Just like that."  
  
Gibbs made the rest of him comfortable, and Tony was happy to have to go get the knitting, just so he wouldn't have to look at the man, spread open and waiting expectantly like that. He swallowed heavily and grabbed his project. To distract himself, he started talking.   
  
"My girlfriend liked mohair, that was what she started me out with. But I like wool. There's this thick, soft yarn that's just... amazing. But this yarn has its perks."  
  
"Like?" Tony's heart skipped a beat. Damn. That voice, asking that question, in this setting... He swallowed again.   
  
"Like... uhm... It's a little harder, a little rough. If you do it wrong, it can get kinda painful, but if you get it right..." He trailed off, praying to God that Gibbs would stop asking questions. He could do this... as long as he didn't think too hard about it being _Gibbs_.  
  
"I'm assuming you don't know how to knit?"   
  
"That's a fair assumption," Gibbs confirmed.   
  
"Okay. So I'm going to be knitting for you. And the easiest way to do _that_..." He went around behind Gibbs' chair, and leaned down, putting Gibbs' torso in the loop of his arms.   
  
"Now, usually I do this on the couch, because then I can have the skein beside me, and it won't fall to the floor or anything. But... uh... would you mind holding onto it?"  
  
"No problem," Gibbs said easily, and took the skein in hand.   
  
Tony lowered the half-knit sock, knowing that his lower back would hate him if he held his position for very long and not caring all that much. When he judged the distance to be about right, he wiggled the sock. Gibbs tensed and hissed, and Tony grinned. Oh, yeah. _Just_ right.   
  
Then he started knitting. Quick, effective motions, because he'd been doing this for a while, after all. Experience was good for a lot of things. He knew exactly how Gibbs felt. Knew the occasionally rough, occasionally feather-light brush of yarn against his sensitive skin. Knew the bump-bump of the little ball of yarn he'd started out with, as it dangled. That was the part that had had his girlfriend going crazy.   
  
He made it to the end of the needle, gave his knitting the quarter-turn, shifted the empty needle, set his yarn firmly back around his fingers, and started again. Gibbs' breath caught, then picked up again, faster than before.   
  
He usually knit socks. They were useful, he liked the yarn, and a sock was a nice, little project. Sweaters got bulky and tended to just... _lie_ there, blanket-like very quickly. Not what he was after at all. He liked the quick brushes a sock gave him to work with.   
  
Another needle emptied, another pause as he made the motions his fingers now did pretty much without conscious thought. And then he started knitting again. Gibbs groaned.   
  
His girlfriend - when she'd told him about her little fetish, he'd thought she was crazy. Whacked in the head, or something. But she'd been enough of a tease, and Tony had been curious enough, that he'd been roped into a demonstration. They'd had hot, steamy sex after that demonstration, and the very next day, Tony had asked to be taught.   
  
Another twist, another turn. Gibbs' head fell back to rest on his shoulder, and Tony breathed in the scent of the man, while he kept knitting.   
  
He always had fun when he went to buy yarn. The shopkeepers were mostly women, and they almost always assumed he was buying for a girlfriend or wife. They didn't have to know that he chose yarn based on the way it felt against his fingers, or that he always wore a long coat when he went yarn-shopping to conceal his very natural reaction when he tried to imagine how this yarn would feel against more sensitive parts of his anatomy.   
  
Another needle, only this one clattered to the floor as Gibbs grabbed his wrist in an iron-grip he knew from their work-outs. "Chist, DiNozzo, stop teasing!"  
  
Tony closed his eyes, threw his knitting aside, and did as he was asked.   
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Morning-light was grey and half-hearted. Tony woke reluctantly, and got out of bed even more reluctantly. He really didn't want to go out into his living-room and confront the fact that he really _was_ alone in his apartment.   
  
Still, it wasn't like he had much choice, unless he wanted to spend the rest of his very brief life in his bedroom.  
  
A light was on in his living-room, though, an old floor light with a wonderfully golden light. This morning, the golden glow illuminated the last thing he'd expected to see in his living room - and the one thing he'd most wanted to see.   
  
Gibbs looked up at him, glasses perched low on his nose, hands fondling a set of knitting-needles and petting a hunter-grey yarn that Tony had picked for his next pair of socks.   
  
"Gibbs?"  
  
"Yeah. I bet you could teach me how to knit, right, Tony?"  
  
The smile was entirely involuntary, but Tony bounding onto the couch to scoot up beside Gibbs wasn't.   
  
"Sure. Want to get started right away?"  
  
"No time like the present," Gibbs said, and turned his head just right to meet the kiss Tony was leaning in for.


End file.
